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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25227259">The Dresscode doesn’t involve scarlet cloaks or cowboy hats (you wear them anyway)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/strawberriesandtophats/pseuds/strawberriesandtophats'>strawberriesandtophats</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Night at the Museum (Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - College/University, Hijinks &amp; Shenanigans, M/M, Modern AU, Roadtrip</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 02:21:41</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>9,087</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25227259</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/strawberriesandtophats/pseuds/strawberriesandtophats</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“What,” Jedediah said, looking dumbstruck. “What do you mean, squirrel man? Why do you know someone who is known as the squirrel man? You teach Latin!”</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jedediah/Octavius (Night at the Museum)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>64</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/MadHatter13/gifts">MadHatter13</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Did this take 2 years to write?<br/>Yes.<br/>Do I still have to do some research for the very last chapter, because I am a scholar and a gentleperson?<br/>Also Yes.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>August had been expecting a sensible car, like a proper jeep or at least a station wagon of some sort. But the monstrosity parked in front of his modest apartment building was a beaten-up truck with huge wheels and a badly done paint job in yellow. Jedediah, his colleague was standing in front of it with a proud grin on his sunburned face.</p>
<p>He probably loved this car more than he loved some of his own relatives.</p>
<p>The cold stung, and August was glad that he was wearing his warm silver jacket and a scarf. Snow crunched underneath his boots as he walked towards the truck with his suitcases.</p>
<p>“Good day for a road trip, eh, Octavius?” Jedediah said, his fingers touching the brim of his ever-present cowboy hat. August could understand the practicality of such a hat in harsh climates and so on, but that just did not excuse how silly it was in this situation as snow continued to fall and gathered on top of the brim of the hat.</p>
<p> August wasn’t sure exactly when Jedediah had started referring to him using that particular nickname, but it was one he didn’t mind that much. He had, after all, been named after Octavian.</p>
<p>“Indeed,” August replied, noticing the duffle bag slung around Jedediah’s shoulders. He hoped that Jedediah’s suit wasn’t in that bag, at least for his own sanity’s sake.</p>
<p>It was not the most appropriate car to arrive in when you were both headed to an academic conference, but it might be a practical choice nonetheless. The weather report had warned about hailstorms and heavy snow, so that the likelihood of ice on the roads was very high.</p>
<p>August waved politely at Jedediah, who had already picked up one of his suitcases and opened the trunk of the car. It was the suitcases that contained all the essentials for a journey such as this one, such as a special cooler bag for all his Tupperware filled with homemade vegetable casseroles and his three best suits and several backup copies of the paper he’d be presenting on his findings about Latin grammar.</p>
<p>He wasn’t certain what Jedediah was going to give a lecture about, but it was undoubtedly something about the American Wild West or at least somehow connected to American History, since that was his field of expertise.</p>
<p>“Tell me, how did you acquire his vehicle?” August asked, gesturing to the truck.</p>
<p>Like a light switch, Jedediah’s expression changed from determination to pure joy.</p>
<p>“The night guard at the college owed me since I’d helped him out with some issues he was having with the air conditioning malfunctioning, so he loaned me this car for the trip since mine’s at the shop.”</p>
<p>August remembered that his colleague’s car had a sticker on it that said: “My other car is a horse!” and decided to ask no questions about how the car had been damaged. The last time Jedediah’s car had been in the shop had been because it had somehow become surrounded by horses who had proceeded to lick the car in order to enjoy the salt on the surface of the shoddy paintjob.</p>
<p>“Are you talking about Cecil?” August asked. “The night guard who dances with the office ladies who do the filing?”</p>
<p>“No, no,” Jedediah said, shaking his head. “The giant one called Larry.”</p>
<p>“Giant?” August said. “He’s around my height and I’d be lucky if someone called me tall.”</p>
<p>“I’m not talking about height. It’s his personality that’s so huge. Nothing will stop that man, buddy. He’s the sort of man who would fight historical figures and win.”</p>
<p>“Very true,” August said.</p>
<p>There was a thump as Jedediah unceremoniously threw the suitcase into the trunk of the car, and it landed just beside a bag filled with camping gear and a leather saddle for horseback riding. August carefully placed his other suitcase inside the trunk as Jedediah threw his duffle bag on top of it and slammed the door shut so fast that August was just pleased that he’d escaped with his fingers intact.</p>
<p>August still had his carry -on bag with him and put it in the backseat along with his jacket and scarf, pleased to see that the car had been vacuumed recently and proceeded to make himself comfortable in the passenger seat in the front of the car. He put his green smoothie in the cup holder and loosened his tie a fraction before he put his seatbelt on while Jedediah started the car.</p>
<p>“Since you are riding shotgun, you are in charge of the music,” Jedediah said after a while, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel as they drove out of the suburbs.</p>
<p>“I prepared for this scenario,” August said, holding up several worn cd cases. “This is my favorite opera.”</p>
<p>“Oh no,” Jedediah said, and August could see the polite horror in his eyes. “No can do, buddy. This is a no-opera car.”</p>
<p>“I see. I have also bought the entire audio recording of ‘Julius Caesar’ by William Shakespeare.”</p>
<p>The horror in Jedediah’s eyes only increased. He was probably wondering how he got himself into these kinds of situations.</p>
<p>“Do you have anything else?” Jedediah asked. “Anything more recent?”</p>
<p>“I have all of Taylor Swift’s music here,” August replied, feeling proud that he had remembered. It was important to listen to what the students listened to in order to be able to communicate with them.</p>
<p>Jedediah seemed to spend some minutes fighting an internal battle. Then he nodded. Love songs washed over them like the tide as they reached the highway.</p>
<p>“Let me introduce you to something revolutionary,” Jedediah said after a while, grinning as he motioned for August to open the glove department. He found a battered cell phone and followed his colleague’s instructions until he’d selected the right playlist.</p>
<p>“It is an audio play about the American Revolution,” August said doubtfully. “And you didn’t want to listen to Caesar.”</p>
<p>“Just listen to it.”</p>
<p>An hour later they were listening to it again while singing along and discussing the invention of the banking system and politics in their respective fields.</p>
<p>“These songs about fighting remind me of when I was adolescent playing video games,” August mused. “I can feel adrenaline pumping through my veins while listening to this.”</p>
<p>“You spent your teenage years playing lots of those battle strategy video games in a Roman setting, I bet” Jedediah asked, leaning back in his seat. “Of course you did.”</p>
<p>“Many of them were very well researched, surprisingly,” August said. “Historically accurate as well.”</p>
<p>“I believe you,” Jedediah said, plucking out the cable that connected the phone to the audio system and changing radio stations until he was satisfied.</p>
<p>August watched the landscape as the music played. He glanced at the man beside him, who was keeping his eyes on the road and humming along with the music. He was clad in his usual outfit of jeans and a faded blue shirt with a red bandana around his neck. It wasn’t professional attire, but they were adjunct professors working at a notoriously liberal university and there was room for some leeway, he supposed.</p>
<p>Despite having two doctoral degrees, in Roman History and Latin, August was aware that becoming a tenured professor wasn’t the career option it had once been. He was used to his full-time job at the local elite high school teaching Latin and working part time in the history department at the University when they needed a guest lecturer during a seminar. He’d also teach some of the introductory courses in Latin there since they were shorter on Latin scholars than historians.</p>
<p>“Did you always desire this life?” August asked, finishing off the last of his green smoothie.</p>
<p>“Nah, not really,” Jedediah said. “This wasn’t the plan. I wanted to be an adventurer and travel the world. Did that for a while before coming back home. And then I went to college on a scholarship and never really stopped taking courses.”</p>
<p>"Sounds like a reasonable choice,” August said, adjusting his red sweater vest.</p>
<p>“I like it on the ranch. But when it came to chose what to choose as a major in college the choice was easy. I’d always liked learning about history and where I’m from and it all came so easily to me. The battles and dates and names, like I’d heard them all before.”</p>
<p>Ah yes. August remembered what that was like.</p>
<p>Information seeping in and fitting into his mind like a missing puzzle piece that had always belonged there anyway, from the way the senate behaved in Latin grammar to the most intricate specifics of how Romans were trained to fight to the feel of scarlet cloth against his skin. Everything, every part of it, fit like a glove.</p>
<p> “How about you?” Jedediah asked, adjusting his silly cowboy hat. “You always wanted to be able to speak in a dead language for a living and teach it to kids in private schools?”</p>
<p>“No. I was planning on becoming a strategist,” August replied. “Even thought about joining the Army. I won many chess tournaments as a child. But I was raised with one foot in the theater, since my parents both worked there and they named me after Octavian.”</p>
<p>“Sounds like Shakespeare-overdose to me,” Jedediah said, but his friendly grin soothed the irritation August had felt rising at his words. ”I can just see you, walking around on that stage as a kid after one of those plays where they all wear sheets.”</p>
<p>“We had a very large collection of classical books and books about the rise and fall of Rome in our apartment. Perhaps it also helped that my first language is Italian which was all we spoke at home, since Italian is a close relation to Latin in many ways,” August recalled. “But as you said, it came easy, both the Latin and the history. Almost as if I already knew all of it and just needed to remember, like I was just revising.”</p>
<p>All the Romantic languages had been easy to learn. But Latin had been different. It was almost as if his brain was hard-wired to speak Latin and was just making do with Italian and English until Latin would come along. Sometimes when he was teaching, he could feel himself slipping into thinking in Latin.</p>
<p>“Yes,” Jedediah said quietly, watching the heavy clouds in the sky ahead. “Memory is a strange thing. But the tank is also a goddamn oddity since we need to find a gas station pretty damn soon. Darn thing should run on electricity, I keep trying to find a good car that does…”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A few minutes passed before they found a gas station.</p><p>“You go inside and try to find something tasty that has no vegetables in it!” Jedediah shouted, looking up at the gas pump. He watched August enter the little shop, head held high and posture ramrod straight.</p><p>Jedediah knew that they were lucky to even be able to go to this convention. After all, they weren’t even proper professors. But Professor Roosevelt, the head of the history department, had insisted that they’d go. And August had been to this convention before. The man was clearly prepared and knew what he was doing. He had two suit cases and Tupperware, for crying out loud. But, then again, August probably just went to this convention to cosplay. Everybody in academia on this side of the country had heard stories about the costume party at the end of the convention.</p><p>Jedediah continued looking at the sky pensively, and did not notice that August was fighting off a would-be robber with a plastic toy sword and winning. After a while a very flustered but triumphant Latin scholar came back to the truck carrying a sack of fresh apples, some water bottles and two bags of sugary snacks. When Jedediah rummaged around in the bag, searching for candy, he found some CDs with obscure musicals and pop songs which were clearly there for his benefit. He knew perfectly well that his music taste was very simple. There were upbeat pop songs or musicals. There was no in between with him.</p><p>He knew that he wasn’t August’s first choice in colleagues to go on a road trip with, but they’d spent some time working together with their offices being side by side and had enough coffee in the same staff room. The man was undoubtedly strange, prone to staring into the distance when talking dramatically about Rome or Latin grammar and spoke like he’d learned to talk by reading the British version of the English-Italian dictionary. But Jedediah had heard August advice his students about what to do in case of a volcano erupting nearby and how to fight if someone attacked them in the street along with some choice insults in Latin if they were being catcalled or insulted.</p><p>“How do you think our students are doing in our absence?” August asked, fighting the seatbelt. “Yours are probably rejoicing that you didn’t leave them with any homework. Mine are most likely weeping with joy because they knew I was planning on a pop-quiz if we wouldn’t go to the convention, for one reason or another.”</p><p>“No worries, Octi,” Jedediah said when they were back on the road and August had thrown the plastic toy sword in the backseat. “I’m sure that your students will be fine missing one class.”</p><p>“They better memorize those conjugation verbs I told them would be on the next test,” August said, “and write down every word they do not know and find it in the dictionary in the back of the textbook-“</p><p>“Hold on now-“Jedediah began.</p><p>August did not seem to hear him. His eyes had the far away expression of a teacher in full-on lecture mode about the importance of homework in order to familiarize oneself with complicated grammar.</p><p>“And,” August continued, “let us not forget that they have to read the notes about the ablative that I handed out-“</p><p>Jedediah was too busy looking at the view in the mirror to listen any longer.</p><p>The sight that greeted him was not a pretty one.</p><p>In fact, it was something out of a nightmare.</p><p>“There is a huge car following us that looks like it’s made out bones, and it’s gaining on us!” said Jedediah, who was looking over his shoulder at a grey monster truck. “HOLD ON!”</p><p>“What?” August asked.</p><p>August grabbed at the seat as Jedediah made a bold turn using only the side wheels on August’s side of the car. He also did a whole lot of terrifying screaming. And then he abruptly stopped, a thoughtful look on his face. Somehow, this thoughtful look was scarier than the truck chasing them.</p><p>Jedediah did not want to find out what that look meant.</p><p>He stepped on the pedal instead, hoping that all that experience playing Mario Kart would come in handy now. August had started muttering about horsepower and chariot races.</p><p>The truck sped up on the icy road, the pine trees that lined the road became a blur of grey.</p><p>“I’m going to shout at him that we aren’t a threat! Use your chariot skills to take the wheel!” Jedediah announced, patting him on the shoulder and looking him straight in the eyes.</p><p>“WHAT?” August shouted, horrified.</p><p>The car swerved to the side as Jedediah let go of the wheel, ignoring the ice on the roads and all safety precautions while simultaneously shouting and accidentally stepping on the gas pedal.</p><p>“WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS, MAN? WE AIN’T EVER DONE ANYTHING TO YOU!” Jedediah screamed, sticking his head through the open window and looking at the other truck behind them.</p><p>The driver did not answer.</p><p>Some people did not need to have reasons to behave like jerks.</p><p>And then continue to do so.</p><p>August had grabbed the steering wheel, his hands visibly clammy with sweat. He was used to the bus and his own bicycle. He hadn’t driven a car in at least four years when his old wreck had given up. Jedediah knew this on a factual level.</p><p> But old training, from where Jedediah could not say, appeared to be dredged from August’s brain. Blood rushed to his head as the man changed lanes, every instinct screaming at them both to escape the horrible thing that was chasing them.</p><p>Jedediah could see that the car was still chasing them and the murderous glare in the driver’s eyes. So much for him listening to plain old reason and traveling safely.</p><p>“Ah,” August said, his voice far too level. “That was the man who had tried to rob me earlier. Splendid.”</p><p>That explained it, Jedediah reasoned, stepping on it.</p><p>The car went even faster. As cars did, when you did certain things. Horses were much the same, but they tended not to explode as much. Usually.</p><p>Jedediah was distantly aware that he was going way over the speed limit.</p><p>But August did not let go of the steering wheel.</p><p>Instead he suddenly swerved to the side of the road, glancing behind his shoulder to take a good look at the other car.</p><p>“STOP THE CAR!” August howled, as the car was introduced to the gravel and mud that made up the side of the road.</p><p>“WHAT?” Jedediah shouted, looking at him with wide eyes. “DON’T YOU SEE THAT THE HUGE DINOSOUR CAR IS CHASING US?”</p><p>“WE DON’T HAVE TO PLAY HIS GAME!” August screamed back. He had a wild look in his yes, but his expression was grim as Jedediah slammed his foot on the brake.</p><p>Then August pulled the emergency brake for good measure. The car came to a halt with a screeching noise. Jedediah sighed loudly and held one hand over his heart.</p><p>The other car hadn’t stopped. It was still heading towards them with no sign of braking.</p><p>“OUT!” August screamed. “SAVE YOURSELF!”</p><p>His hands were still grabbing the steering wheel. He clearly couldn’t move them. The noise from the other car was almost unbearable, Jedediah’s every sense screaming at him to run while alerting it to how close to death they both were.</p><p>“NOT LEAVING YOU BEHIND!” Jedediah shouted, opening the car door and doing just that. August visibly managed to unclench his fingers from the steering wheel and unbuckle his seatbelt, his eyes closed as if he was just waiting for death to come claim him.</p><p>He ran to the other side of the car, ripping the door open.</p><p>August said something, Italian and English and Latin blending together and crashing into each other as his shaking hands reached towards Jedediah, his legs shaking even more as he tried to stand up.</p><p>Jedediah grabbed at his waist, dragging him out of the car.</p><p>They ran away from it, not thinking, barely breathing. And throwing themselves onto the ground as the other car smashed into their truck.</p><p>Jedediah kept his grip on his friend as firm as he could, seeing that his eyes fell shut and his whole body slumped. He held him for what felt like an eternity, hands on his wrist to feel that his pulse was still there.</p><p>And it was, if faint.</p><p>He kept utterly still for a long while.</p><p>Then he stood up to deal with this mess.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When August woke up, he could feel that he was lying on grass. He opened his eyes to see the bright blue sky over his head and an ache in his shoulders. At least there wasn’t any snow of the ground.</p><p>“Octavius est in horto.” his mind supplied, helpfully. Then it scrambled some of the words like an odd omelet, changing placements all without his permission.</p><p>August raised himself up on his elbows to find that there was soot all over his hands and clothes. He was in a large garden next to a small camping site. The garden was empty and the inhabitants of the house who also owned presumably owned the garden didn’t look like they were home at the moment.</p><p>Jedediah was putting up a large tent on a patch of grass, clearly unharmed. Their truck had been taken away. There was a pile of sticks and some chopped up wood in a pile within a circle of stones some way away from the tent itself.</p><p>“The good news is that the guy who crashed into our truck has been arrested, and I talked to the police,” Jedediah said, helping him up. August put his arm around Jedediah’s shoulder to steady himself. “The car took almost all the damage. None one offered to drive us to a motel so I improvised.”</p><p>“That’s good,” August managed, his thoughts muddled. After a while he sat down in the tent. “I am glad that we are both alive.”</p><p>“The bad news is that we’ll have to phone the ones in charge of the convention in any case. We don’t have a ride. I don’t know anyone who lives in these parts.”</p><p>August sighed.</p><p>At least his suitcases had survived, as well as Jedediah’s duffle bag. They were in a stack next to the tent.</p><p>“I’ll look through my phone,” August promised, reaching for a small iron pot that had been stashed away in one of the corners of the tent and dumped two servings of broccoli casserole into the pot from his Tupperware containers. Soon the smell of onions, red bell peppers and broccoli became comforting enough to make Jedediah stop pacing around. August wrapped his parka around himself more carefully, zipping it up and was thankful that he was wearing his thick red sweater vest. Even if it was filthy with mud and what he hoped was soot.</p><p>“This is a goddamn unsatisfactory situation,” Jedediah said, shaking his head. “Our ride exploded and we’re covered in black…something and there is barely any cell reception.”</p><p>“Sit down,” August advised, patting ground beside him. ”I’ll make some calls in the morning, and we’ll get there just in time. We managed to survive this and most of our luggage is still intact. We can watch the sunset together.”</p><p>Jedediah sighed.</p><p>“If you don’t want broccoli then I have some apples. Some of them are smashed, but I’m sure that-“</p><p>Jedediah sat down and accepted a plate of cooked vegetables.</p><p>“Thank you,” he said quietly before attempting to shove as much food into his mouth as he could. August nodded, clearly pleased with the fact that his cooking was appreciated. Jedediah was now using the spoon like a shovel. August opened even more Tupperware and upended it so that the rest of the casserole landed in the pot. “They’re not getting rid of us that easy.”</p><p>The yellowed grass gleamed golden in the last rays of the sunset, and the sky was so blue it seemed almost fictional.</p><p>They enjoyed it for as long as they could before zipping themselves up inside the sleeping bags and immediately falling asleep.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>When Jedediah woke up, the first thing he heard was someone shouting on the phone. He blinked groggily, raising himself up to an elbow and peeked through the door of the tent. August was standing in front of the campfire, where some vegetarian sausages were sizzling on a pan and loudly describing his location and surroundings while waiving a spatula to demonstrate his point. The man was clearly unable to do anything without sounding or looking theatrical and would burn the hem of his trousers if he kept pacing around like that.</p><p>“Didn’t know you’d bring your own breakfast,” Jedediah said, gesturing towards the pan when his colleague put the phone in the pocket of his scarlet parka.</p><p>“It is better to be prepared for any eventuality,” August said, flipping the sausages onto the other side and pouring onions, tomatoes and eggs from a bowl onto the other side of the pan. The onions and tomatoes sizzled and the eggs cooked while August produced salt and pepper containers from seemingly nowhere and began seasoning the food.</p><p>Jedediah was about to make a remark about not trusting anyone to do things right when August placed a plate filled with a still steaming breakfast in front of him, momentarily distracted by the smell.</p><p>August took his silence as an opening, and put his own plate on a flat stone.</p><p>“I have secured a ride for us, which will be here shortly,” he announced and began slicing his lightly grilled tomato with a knife. “We will have time to eat and tidy up the tent before he arrives.”</p><p>“So, you know some Roman history geeks or Latin scholars in the area, huh?” Jedediah asked, pointing at August with the sausage half he was holding in his calloused fingers before ripping off a bite of the sausage and shoveling some onions in his mouth for good measure.</p><p>“No, indeed I do not. I called the squirrel man,” August said, looking faintly disgusted with Jedediah’s table manners and brought a forkful of tomato and eggs towards his mouth.</p><p>“What,” Jedediah said, looking dumbstruck. “What do you mean, squirrel man? Why do you know someone who is known as the squirrel man? You teach Latin!”</p><p>“You are just peeved that I am more skilled at networking than you, Jedediah,” August said, continuing to eat his eggs and sausage. “I met this man at the last convention. He breeds and trains giant squirrels and ordinarily sized squirrels for wealthy clients, as I understand.”</p><p>“Why?” Jedediah asked, spearing some onions on his fork.</p><p>“It is a mystery, a riddle for the ages,” August said, standing up and collecting both their plates.</p><p>They tidied up in silence, Jedediah taking care of the tent and August making sure that they had all their luggage and the fire was out.</p><p>A beaten-up pickup truck came into view, pieces of rust flying off as it stopped in front of the two men.</p><p>The squirrel man didn’t say anything when he gestured for them to get inside his car, so Jedediah just grabbed his stuff and squashed himself against August, who appeared to think that being pressed against a wire cage full of squirrels was just another day at the office.</p><p>He’d have thought that he’d be gnashing his teeth and asking for the radio to be turned up to hide the endless scratching and climbing and eating.</p><p>“Just imagine harnessing that,” August said, turning to look at Jed. “Imagine what it would be like to be able to ride a huge squirrel like a magnificent horse-“</p><p>“Are you dreaming with your eyes open?” Jedediah asked. “I’m sure that the hotel has a good bed so you can rest.”</p><p>“I’ll just dream about us being late,” August said, closing his eyes. “You are stuck in an hourglass, like always.”</p><p>“Is that a metaphor for my career?” Jedediah joked. “Or some weird memory of your childhood playing video games?”</p><p>“What?” August asked, opening one eye.</p><p>“You know, save the princess who is stuck in an hourglass?” Jedediah replied. “Don’t tell me you’ve never seen Aladdin.”</p><p>But August had already fallen asleep.</p><p>There was nothing to do but listen to the squirrels and the total absence of music. And August talking in Latin about the proper way to put on Roman armor.</p><p> </p><p>The squirrel man dropped them off at the hotel with nothing more than a wave, throwing Jedediah’s duffle bag at his face and politely handing over August’s suitcases like a trained porter at a five-star hotel in the Swiss Alps.</p><p>It was not a five-star hotel, but it was nice enough.</p><p>Jedediah suspected that the fact that access to the spa and gym was free, but actually wanting to use their services was not. Maybe they would be able to sit in the hot tubs or the sauna for a small fee, but they’d want his life savings for a 90-minute massage.</p><p>August had once sent him screenshots of the price of a classic facial at a tiny mountain hotel in the middle of nowhere last year, which he’d been tempted to try out after a terrifying flight out there where he’d gotten nervous because the plane had flown through a lightning storm and almost crashed into the mountain itself.</p><p>It had been quite something to see his expressions on the screen as they talked, August just stifling his voice not to shout about how the price of that facial was the entire costume and prop budget that he’d been given by the high school he taught at to put on a production of <em>King Lear</em>.</p><p> </p><p>The lobby was so clean that you could lick your dinner off the floor, the sofas were all occupied by stressed academics and one cheerful-looking man shouting in his cellphone about Scrooge McDuck and teddy bears. Then he launched into a speech about the merits of fighting off thieves with a broomstick and a whole lot of righteous rage.</p><p>Jedediah waited patiently with the bags as August checked them in and got the key cards from the receptionist, whistling all the while.</p><p>August looked bright and bushy-tailed after his nap, looking around the lobby and waving at linguists and historians and theatre folks in that cheerful way that quiet gays had. Jedediah waved at them too, tipping his hat for good measure.</p><p>They headed for the elevators, because as much as Jedediah would have liked to stomp up the stairs, there was a nervous tilt to August’s voice as he commented on the weather tomorrow and his hopes that their beds would be good ones.</p><p>They had asked for a single bedroom but with twin beds, because their school might not have had any cash to spare, but it would look real bad to have ordered a single kingsize bed for two colleagues. No matter if it was a mistake or not. People paid the school for their children to be able to attend, they did not pay for room upgrades and beds that had enough room for several people.</p><p>Jedediah collapsed face first on the bed while August systematically took his clothes out of his suitcases and put them away neatly in the closet, including what appeared to be a red cloak and something silver and shiny.</p><p>“I’ll shower and then start practicing,” August said, gesturing at the stack of papers in his hands and at the USB key on the nightstand.</p><p>“You do that, buddy,” Jedediah mumbled, only one eye open. His body was already demanding at least a fifteen-minute total shutdown. “I’ll just stay here for a bit, dreaming about building a railroad.”</p><p>“No robbing my closet because you forgot to bring an extra shirt,” August only replied, already putting a floral-smelling cream on his face. “I’ve seen how the chocolates in my desk drawer go missing sometimes.”</p><p>“And you suspect me?” Jedediah said, mock-offended and rolling over to his back. His body still refused to move. His hat was still on his head.</p><p>To be fair, he had stolen the chocolates.</p><p>They were the expensive kind you got from actual chocolate shops that sold them individually wrapped. Just eating one kicked your entire being into the kind of orgasmic pleasure that haunted you for the rest of your life.</p><p>And August sometimes forgot to lock the drawers in his desk, meaning that Jedediah had once found the secret compartment that held both the chocolates and August’s secret stash of cowboy romance books, dog-eared and with bare-chested fellows on the cover.</p><p>He’d read one or two of those, turning to a life of crime by smuggling the books and chocolates into his own tiny office that was more of a broom closet than anything else. And then he’d read them in between planning lectures and research as a way to reward himself.</p><p>“I suspect the entire staff,” August said darkly, pulling on a gosh-darned red and embroidered dressing gown over his shirt. His hair was gleaming with product, gold patches on the bags underneath his eyes and fluffy slippers on his feet.</p><p> “Fair,” Jedediah said, closing his eyes and tipping his hat over them for good measure. “I’ve seen those things in the shop. They look as delicious as a gun-fight at dawn in the dusty heat-“</p><p>August hummed the tune of ‘The Room Where It Happens’ as he read and Jedediah lingered in that place between true sleep and the waking world, turning pages as he read.</p><p>Sometimes he muttered something about grammar and Latin and historical context, but Jedediah only understood bits and pieces of it.</p><p>When he opened his eyes again, the shower was on and August was singing in the shower. In Latin.</p><p>Jedediah stood up, trying and failing not to think of him naked. He shook his head, rubbing at his eyes all the while and began to unpack his duffle bag by throwing his possessions into the closet with as much force as those objects could handle.</p><p>They had lost the first night of the conference and a good part of the morning, meaning that he had around an hour to prepare for his small lecture. That was fine, he was used to scrambling, in fact he thrived when he had to pull any kind of stunt.</p><p>August was more of the organized type.</p><p>He liked plans. And order. And bullet points.</p><p>But he also loved dramatics and speeches, so it all worked out in the end.</p><p> </p><p>Now it was only a matter of cleaning himself up, finding the actual physical copy of his notes and the lecture itself. He’d almost stapled it to his hand after he’d printed it, but no matter. The important thing was that he had it.</p><p>Jedediah unearthed the USB key with his PowerPoint slides on it, as well as an extra copy of his notes and the video (with subtitles) that he’d made of the queer subtext in so many western movies. Bad ones, good ones, the sort that had been made on no budget and with logic defying things in it. Like a guitar that appeared to be magically resistant to the fact that it was unprotected against the elements while traveling on horseback.</p><p>He'd shown the clip of a scene in Johnny Guitar to the kids, pointing out that even though the movie itself might not be the best one, Joan Crawford in that black shirt and trousers on top of the stairs was undoubtedly something that made you stop in your tracks.</p><p>He stuffed everything, including his laptop (with cat stickers) into his work bag.</p><p>And then he watched as many Orville Peck videos as he could in the time that he had before August came out of the bathroom, all dolled up and somehow smelling like a gladiator that had achieved enormous power by becoming emperor.</p><p>He slammed his phone on the bed, upside down, ripping out his earbuds and almost fell off the bed.</p><p>August appeared to be totally unaffected by all this, having seen Jedediah fall of his own desk countless times. His hair was wrapped up in a towel, his clip-on nails were bright red and shiny, his silver earrings were in.</p><p>It was unfair.</p><p>It really was.</p><p>Jedediah almost sprinted into the bathroom with his bundle of clothes, very much not looking at the strip of skin he could see because August had yet to button the top two buttons on his crisp white shirt. Then he stepped right into the shower, already intent on stealing all of his coworker’s bathroom products as a form of merciless revenge for looking too good.</p><p>He scrubbed his whole body with the hotel soap bar anyway, turning the water as cold as it would go and pretended that it was rain. Then he went for it, lathering his hair with shampoo that must have had a truly ludicrous price tag.</p><p>He even used August’s special bath brush, happily scrubbing at his back with it as the water washed away the soap and shampoo. Only stepping out when his body started hollering at him about the cold, Jedediah dried off with towels that were so soft that the hotel must be doing something illegal to get them that way.</p><p>Then he got dressed in his good suit, buttoning his nice blue shirt and not thinking of August expertly doing something complicated with his red tie in the other room. That was a man that he’d once seen chop up garlic in the staff room with frightening efficiency while talking about how many times a certain Roman had been stabbed. And then he’d made stabbing motions.</p><p>It should not have been that alluring.</p><p>But it kind of had been.</p><p>Especially since they had spent the rest of their lunch break watching cat videos.</p><p>Jedediah picked up the hair dryer, fiddling with it until the air that came from the thing it felt like he was riding on a horse on a hot summer morning. Then he wooshed the hairdryer all around his head until his hair felt somewhat drier.</p><p>Right.</p><p>He was ready.</p><p>His suit was on, his bag was packed, the only thing left was to find the place where was supposed to give the lecture and to go there while wearing actual formal shoes instead of his beloved heeled boots.</p><p>When he stepped out of the bathroom, August was color-coding his notes with a heap of markers and listening to what appeared to be an opera on his phone. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up to his elbows, which was almost too much for Jedediah to bear.</p><p>“I’m going to go now,” Jedediah said, not knowing how to handle any of this. “Find the room and such, make sure that nothing explodes like one of those volcanos you were telling me about.”</p><p>“I will find you,” August said, making it sound like a declaration instead of just a normal statement of purpose.</p><p>“Remember me as I was,” Jedediah heard himself saying in response, as if he was not just going to go downstairs and wander around for a bit. “Wild and free.”</p><p>Then he opened the door, bag in hand.</p><p>And headed down the hallway by himself.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>There was always a certain delight in watching a truly excellent lecture. Powerpoint failures, wobbly desks and squeaky floorboards could all distract from an ordinary competent lecture, but when things went well because the speaker was living their best life and making the speech of a lifetime, it was a sight to behold.</p>
<p>And so it was now, watching Jedediah striding across the stage with his notes in one hand and gesturing with the other one, words floating in the air and gleaming with enthusiasm. It was as if the world itself fell away and you were absorbed in the world that was being created in front of you. He could almost hear the hoofbeats and feel the hot sandy wind making his eyes gritty and getting into his ears.</p>
<p>August had listened to this lecture, word-for-word, at least five times before. Jedediah striding around the staff room, talking about queer cowboys and what exile would mean to vulnerable members of tiny towns.  Gesturing with a fork, both elbows on the table as he rambled on about cowboys in shoe-string budget films about the Wild West, the force of nature that was the queer lit movement and how things were moving forwards.</p>
<p>But it had never been like this, alive and somehow electric.</p>
<p>August let it all wash over him, a great tide of information. The rest of the audience was spell-bound, following every word.</p>
<p>And Jedediah noticed, a bright smile on his face as he wrapped everything up and leaned back when everyone applauded.</p>
<p>Afterwards, he’d sat down right next to August, who congratulated him on a job well done and basked in Jedediah’s excitement on having had a grand adventure.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>August found himself feeling desperately grateful that he’d organized everything beforehand, thinking of how little time there was to prepare for his own lecture. His notes were stapled and color-coded, his slideshow on three different USB keys.</p>
<p>He thrived on order, even if he did prefer it all to be sprinkled with theatricality and drama. That was why he’d put his rainbow pin on the lapel of his best suit and made sure that his makeup was still good to go before he’d left the hotel room.</p>
<p>And as a person on the very fringes of academia, this was his chance to feel as if belonged there. That he could be a part of both worlds, that of a high school teacher that tended to mutter to himself in Latin when he reading over his notes for the next lesson and an academic that thrived on research and attending all kinds of conventions.</p>
<p>He'd written short Latin textbooks for younger students, he’d had small roles in a few tv series set in ancient Rome.</p>
<p>He could do this.</p>
<p>Resisting the urge to just lock himself in the bathroom to breathe harshly, August strolled to the room that he’d be giving his lecture at, distantly aware that Jedidiah had loped his arm around his middle and was practically steering him through the crowd.</p>
<p>They arrived at the massive hall with fifteen minutes to spare, so August began to set things up with the help of at least five staff members who watched as every seat was gradually filled.</p>
<p>Soon the Powerpoint presentation was on the screen, his notes were sorted out and he’d put his red bamboo cup on the podium. It had been filled with water, even if he’d have preferred rocket-fuel strength coffee.</p>
<p>“Good afternoon, everyone,” he said, feeling his shoulders relax as he saw Jedediah’s ridiculously charming grin among the crowd. The man had even tucked his hat underneath his arm and was holding something red in his hands.</p>
<p>Had he brought August’s red knitted pullover with him in case he’d get cold?</p>
<p>How thoughtful.</p>
<p>August looked down on his notes, just in case, even if he knew them by heart.</p>
<p>He knew this.</p>
<p>This was, after all, essentially theatre.</p>
<p>It was as if someone had turned on all the lights inside him as he launched into his speech, the words so ingrained to him after such a long time spent researching the topic and preparing for all this.</p>
<p>The winged chariot of time did not halt, nor stop.</p>
<p>Neither did August, who allowed himself a grandiose gesture or two as he talked, striding across the stage and looking over the crowd. He even managed to weasel in a Shakespeare reference or five. As a treat.</p>
<p>And then he was bowing when the applause made the chandelier in the ceiling shake.</p>
<p>He made his way down off the stage, unable to stop smiling. People were shaking his hand and stuffing their business cards up the sleeve of his suit. Somehow, he managed to hand them his business card back, to say polite and appropriate things even if his mind was as chaotic as a beehive that had been hit with a baseball bat.</p>
<p>When Jedediah handed him a bouquet of flowers, he did not cry in front of everyone. Even if his face did crumble a bit. Instead he just hugged Jedediah with the arm that was not holding the flowers, thanking him in a voice that he could barely hear himself.</p>
<p>They somehow managed to leave the hall before the next lecture would start, Jedediah walking in front of him like a cowboy hell-bent on defeating his arch-enemy in a duel at dawn, which caused people to move out of their way.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>When August could form a coherent thought again, he was seated in the corner of the hotel’s little café, with a large cup of tea int front of him. And a slice of blackberry pie on a plate.</p>
<p>He had no idea how they had appeared.</p>
<p>The only way to solve that was to look around to see what else had been miracled into existence. He’d have to act like some of those handsome detectives in the cowboy romance novels he’d secretly brought to work and hidden in his desk.</p>
<p>Technically speaking, they were very safe for work because nothing explicit ever happened in them, and no one knew that they were in his office. The chocolates were another matter, but one day he’d catch the unrepentant thief that kept stealing them and there would be a reckoning.</p>
<p>The flowers were on a chair to the side.</p>
<p>His bag was on the back of the chair.</p>
<p>Jedediah was drinking what looked like his fourth cup of coffee.</p>
<p>Ah, good.</p>
<p>He must know what had happened when August had been kind of out of it, most of his scattered thoughts had been in Latin and confusingly about Lancelot the knight being handsome. He had seen a clip of a splendid performance of Camelot a few weeks back, as well as a wax statue of Lancelot because one of his students had shown him a photo that they’d taken on a trip to a museum.</p>
<p>“You’re back?” Jedediah asked, ripping a grilled cheese sandwich apart with his teeth. “Been gone for a bit, buddy.”</p>
<p> “Oh,” August said, taking hold of the cup and taking a long sip of his tea. “That happens sometimes.”</p>
<p>“I know,” Jedediah said. “Besides, it’s been a hell of a ride, these past few days. I’m thinking that it would be best for us to head up to the room to get in some of that lost sleep.”</p>
<p>August looked up from draining his cooled tea, thinking of how Jedediah would look in bed, utterly relaxed and comfortable. It would stir up even more emotions than had already been stirred by this trip of theirs.</p>
<p>Not that he didn’t want them to do something about all this, but having been forced into proximity with each other like this meant that even if they were making steps towards becoming an item, actually hooking up on a work trip was unwise.</p>
<p>No matter how handsome Jedediah looked, they still had time to figure this thing out later.</p>
<p>He just had to stop himself from thinking about pushing the two beds together…</p>
<p>“I am going to visit the spa downstairs, see if they’ve got any offers,” August said, grabbing onto that stray thought of wanting to look fancy at bar-con tonight. He ate the quiche in a sort of a trance, only registering that it was good and how hungry he’d actually been. “It would be grand to have someone else deep-condition my hair for once.”</p>
<p>“Right,” Jedediah said, who had only started moisturizing when August had lectured him on the importance of skincare. “You go do that, buddy.”</p>
<p>“Thanks for this,” he managed, when he’d finished eating. He did not manage to reach for his wallet because Jedediah put his hands on his to stop him.</p>
<p>“Nah,” he said. “You made us breakfast before and found a ride here, the least I can do for you is to get you some food.”</p>
<p>August stood up, not feeling nearly as shaky on his feet as he had. Then he picked up his things and waved goodbye, already thinking of how good it would feel to soak in one of the hot-tubs. The trick was to not fall asleep in them.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Jedediah hurried down the stairs, cursing all the twists and turns that eventually led to the hotel’s bar. He’d woken up to the sound of his phone’s horrible alarm clock, resisted the overwhelming urge to throw it against the wall and flopping onto his other side so to dunk himself into dreamland again.</p>
<p>Instead he’d managed to haul himself up and into the shower, vaguely aware that the air inside the bathroom smelled like honey and roses.</p>
<p>Right.</p>
<p>August must have come back to the room and spent the time that Jedidiah was snoring away and dreaming of wild dance parties with historical figures getting ready, if the neat makeup case, row of hair-products and misplaced hotel hairdryer was anything to go by.</p>
<p>That man could be as quiet as a mouse, if he wanted to.</p>
<p>He hadn’t even disturbed Jedediah’s dreams, with all the noise and mess that came with this kind of thing.</p>
<p>Jedediah himself could barely keep silent in the shower, too prone to squeeze the soap bar too hard and have it bounce around the shower like a ball which would always hit him on the forehead and almost knock him out. If that did not happen, he’d be overcome with the desire to sing. Loudly.</p>
<p>August had routines.</p>
<p>And he followed all of them.</p>
<p>Jedediah had looked at his wild curls after he’d escaped the shower, still kind of all over the place and wet and decided that they were just a part of his cowboy charm. He got dressed, happy to be wearing boots again and only pocketed his phone and wallet as an afterthought.</p>
<p>There had a sticky note on the door, informing him that August had already gone to the bar.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>And now Jedediah was looking around the hallway in the basement like a lost foal separated from the herd, craning his neck to hear anything that sounded like people having a good time. Luckily at that moment in time, he heard August talking loudly in Italian about just how many dishes his great-grandmother had made for Sunday dinner. And how he made his own pasta, because that was just how he’d been brought up.</p>
<p>He edged to the left and then the bar came into view.</p>
<p>More importantly, he saw August, all decked out in Roman armor in silver and red. It was a sight that could have been carved right out of Jedediah’s less family-friendly daydreams, right down to the delighted smile on August’s face.</p>
<p>It had clearly been tailor-made for him or perhaps he’d even made it himself. It had a helmet and even a swishy scarlet cape. He was wearing soft white tights underneath the skirt for modesty reasons, too. Jedediah wasn’t sure if those were entirely historically accurate.</p>
<p>But then again, this was a work event.</p>
<p>Looking too sexy was already a risk in that outfit.</p>
<p>Jedediah had once seen August out on a run in the park, one fine autumn morning. And he’d been wearing the tiniest red shorts Jedediah had ever seen in his life. He’d offered August some of his water from his carry-on bottle and helplessly watched as the man downed most of it in one go, then splashed some over his face to cool off.</p>
<p>That experience had been…enlightening.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jedediah somehow managed to wave at his coworkers, who had found seats at a table near the back of the bar. Waving, he felt was a feat in itself as he’d become too distracted by thoughts about what kind of lingerie August had to have put on underneath that costume. That was not a skirt that was long enough to allow for boxers.</p>
<p>August saluted him with his cocktail, a honest-to-god carved-out pineapple with a bright pink umbrella and a bendy straw. He was surrounded by other academics of the sort that would mention that they’d spent a few years in Rome and London and dabbled a bit in online-teaching.</p>
<p>“Jedediah!” he said, smile still in place. “You made it!”</p>
<p>“I might still be dreaming,” Jedediah said, gesturing at August’s costume and was rewarded with what was definitely a blush.</p>
<p>He sat down beside August, ordering a beer on reflex alone.</p>
<p>“These are far better,” August said, pointing at a pink mocktail on the menu. It had ice in it. And a rainbow umbrella. “This one tastes like raspberries and summer mornings.”</p>
<p>“I might try it,” Jedediah said. “Looks exiting.”</p>
<p>He slung an arm around August’s shoulders when he started telling their colleagues about their trip there, including the bit about the squirrel man and the fight at the gas station.</p>
<p>“Professor Roosevelt is going to have the time of his life, listening to this,” said a man in a flamingo costume, shaking his head. “You think that he’ll consider some kind of punishment?”</p>
<p>“Nah,” Jedediah said. “We’ve done nothing to mess up the reputation of our school. It’s not our fault that someone tried to kill us with a dinosaur truck.”</p>
<p>“That’s right,” August said. “And it is not as if he hasn’t had adventures, as well. I heard that he once went on a field trip with some of the history students and fought off a brown bear with his bare hands.”</p>
<p>“They put pictures of it on Instagram,” Jedediah said, pulling out his phone. “He was amazed that they thought this was strange, to him it was just another Friday.”</p>
<p>“I bet it was,” said one of the scholars, looking at the photographs.</p>
<p>“And I’ve secured a car so that we can go back home safely,” August told Jedediah.</p>
<p>“I don’t think my mental health can handle another ride with the squirrel man, Octavius,” Jedediah said. “I’ve just been thanking my stars that my giant friend who owned the truck has all the insurance in the world so that we don’t have to pay for the damages-“</p>
<p>“No, no,” August said. “I’ve rented a proper jeep for us. In red.”</p>
<p>“If you use your fancy chariot skills to drive, I’ll pay you back somehow,” Jedediah said. “Still a bit shaken after last time, I was behind the wheel, you know.”</p>
<p>“We’re going to listen to four hours of Shakespeare on the way back,” August said. “It will soothe your frazzled nerves.”</p>
<p>“It will not!” Jedediah argued.</p>
<p>“I have seen myself how putting on a recording of his sonnets will lull you to sleep,” August said with great conviction. “Alternatively, we could listen to the entire reputation-tour, my Taylor Swift collection escaped unscratched.”</p>
<p>Jedediah opened his mouth to suggest that they’d listen to Orville Peck, but that thought was followed by the conviction that he would die of feelings if that were to happen.</p>
<p>“Only if we listen to some country,” Jedediah said. “Some Chicks, August. They’ve released a new album.”</p>
<p>“Agreed,” August said, grabbing his hand and shaking it.</p>
<p>Jedediah leaned back in his seat with his beer, nodding when the bartender handed him a mocktail. His hand was still around August’s shoulders, and they were having a grand time.</p>
<p>The sun would rise in the morning, and they’d have the whole day to get back home.</p>
<p>And a long, long car ride, which they could spend getting to know each other better.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Writing this was a riot, please remember to leave a review if you so desire.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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